


Marmora Redux

by nodere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, I absolutely interpreted that entire episode as sheith done wrong., M/M, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Shiro what are you doing throwing Keith under the bus like that?, The Blade of Marmora - Freeform, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:57:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9444182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nodere/pseuds/nodere
Summary: Keith is lying on the floor with his feelings.There were far too many gaps in "The Blade of Marmora" for me to be happy with how it was handled, so I filled in the parts I thought were missing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, real talk here, I did not like the writing in this episode at all. The animation was gorgeous (needed fewer still shots and a larger budget), Keith was stunning animated eye candy, the voice actors amazing and doing the best they could with what they were given, but it was like listening to really great voices vomiting out stock dialogue, as if the writers didn't know how to take their characters and determine how they should react in this situation. I didn't appreciate the "no homo" either. Stop that! It's 2017! And don't even get me started on how much of it just made no sense whatsoever.
> 
> I bet I'm not the only one who feels this way. 
> 
> So I wrote this thing. At 3 am. To work this all out of my system. Please forgive its flaws.

“Ah-I don’t know.” Shiro’s words echoed through his head.

The reality of that statement hit him harder than the slick, cold metal of the platform when he’d fallen. He wasn’t supposed to go through that door after all, it made perfect sense; his mind was so consumed with Shiro that he couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Of everything he had felt in that moment, betrayal was forefront in his mind.

_ What do you mean, you don’t know?  _ There was no way for Keith to know the full extent of Shiro’s memory loss, but even if Shiro did not remember, why would he have said that?

_ Why don’t you trust me? _

Here they were, within this impossibility of space and time where the gravitational pull of two black holes was disrupted by the orbital period of a pulsating blue giant, at the secret hideout of the Galra rebellion. He and Shiro were strangers in this place, to every place now, with only the reputation of Voltron to provide them with credibility or cover. Fortune had permitted them entry. They were at the mercy of these people who did not trust them, had no reason to trust them, and now Shiro had done nothing less than admit to all of them that he didn’t trust Keith either.

Was Shiro somehow aware of what had been eating at him these past several days? Had he been baiting him with those questions about his mental state, testing his reaction with talk of leading the team should something happen to him? Did he think Keith, in direct comparison to Zarkon, might eventually have something to do with his demise?

_ You fight like a Galra, Soldier. _

Keith shuddered. At least he had Red. She served as his collateral, the insurance that he could not and would not be left here, no matter who or what he really was. Even if Shiro knew and wanted to somehow remove him from the team, it wouldn’t be here. There was no other way out.

He didn’t know Shiro anymore, and he had to stop pretending that he did. The man who had accompanied him to this place was not the same person he had known before enlisting in the Garrison, who had not yet been sent on a mission to the edge of the solar system surrounding the Sun, far away in the Orion-Cygnus arm of the Milky Way, so many galaxies and light years away from wherever they were now. Sometimes he wanted to go home, but he was no longer sure where home was or where he even belonged.

These revelations cut deeper than any knife, slicing through to the core of his being and gouging at his heart. The thought of being alone again terrified him, and he resented the feeling. More than the promise of any knowledge he could have gained from these trials, that primal emotive force fueled the fire inside him, burning strong.

Shiro’s distrust had called everything into question. He tried to orient himself, yet every time he opened his eyes, the blackness closed in from the periphery of his vision until he was once again floating in the void. Lying here in exhaustion, Keith was no longer sure he could distinguish between what was real and what he wanted reality to be.

Someone was standing before him. He heard the footfalls, could sense the overwhelming presence. He tried again to rally, breathing in deeply. His eyelids fluttered. White armor. This was no good. He had to get up.

_ Patience yields focus.  _ But Shiro had been unable to think fast on his feet, had frozen in alarm when the guard had grabbed Keith from behind, wrenching his arms behind him, knee into his spine. What good had patience been then? And what about Shiro’s panic watching the dagger being taken, the guard’s foot pressing Keith’s head to the hard rock? Keith knew. He had seen it; Shiro had not known what to do.

He could only rely on himself, and this was not how a team was supposed to work. But he probably wasn't supposed to be on this team. He was just a placeholder until they could find a replacement.

Instinct had kept him alive and instinct would get him through this.

Shiro. The white armor was Shiro.

In one reality, he became so consumed, his anger transformed to boiling rage, and he threw the knife at Shiro’s chest with a deafening battle cry, lodging it in his breastplate up to the hilt.

In another, he broke completely; a sobbing, weeping mess on the floor as the tears rolled down his face and splattered unceremoniously onto the ground as they fell in droplets off his chin.

In this one, however, he clasped Shiro’s hand and slowly rose up, steadying himself on his feet as he swayed. He squared his tired shoulders, dagger still clutched in his vise-like grip.

“You’re like a brother to me.”

This Shiro, more or less as real as the other Shiros had been, stopped dead in his tracks. It was the most callus statement he could devise. One that changed and charged the meaning of everything they had shared through all the time they had been given together.  _ You and I, we are nothing more than star stuff. _

But then Shiro was back on the dagger again. There had been no impact, no recognition. Shiro either did not remember or no longer cared and he could not tell which. “You’re only thinking of yourself, as usual.”

_ He did know. _

Keith froze, and his heart skipped a beat. Was that true? Perhaps his feelings had always only been one-sided. He had lost his family at a young age, how could he possibly know what it was like to be loved and love in return? Maybe he only did ever think of himself. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. Even when he thought he was acting for the good of the team he acted rashly. That’s what had gotten him into a fight with Zarkon. It’s what had caused him to damage his lion. Him. It was all his fault. Every time he impulsively broke with the other paladins to chase after Shiro, even leaving with Allura to find out if Zarkon was tracking him, all of those actions had been selfish. No one else could pilot the red lion, and without him, they were unable to form Voltron. What had he been thinking?

He hadn’t. That was the problem.

No wonder the other paladins didn’t like him, he couldn’t manage to do anything that didn’t put his own needs and desires ahead of theirs.

They would all be better off without him. “I’ve made my choice.”

“Then you’ve chosen to be alone.”

Shiro’s words hit hard, and Keith staggered backwards. He shivered from the cold perspiration at the back of his neck. No. NO!  _ Don’t say that! _ Nothing was worth that. Is this what he deserved? Was this an entreaty, an apology, or just another ruthless trick?

What sort of test had this become and why was Shiro walking away from him? “Shiro! Wait!” He cried in desperation.

_ Don’t leave me! Don’t turn your back on me! _

Shiro, who did not trust him, did not love him, probably didn’t like him, was going to leave him here and he was begging not to be left behind. What was wrong with him?

_ Red? Where are you, girl?  _ She wouldn’t leave him, would she? Could Shiro even replace him if he wanted to?

Hadn’t he already asked this? Hadn’t he already determined he couldn’t be left  _ here? _

His head hurt. Why couldn’t he think straight?

He dropped the knife. As it clattered to the ground, he darted forward, sprinting across the hall and into the empty brilliant light where every breath was suffocating. He was blind and drowning.

+

When he finally came to, Shiro stood over him, reaching down to grasp his elbow and lift him up to his feet. “Keith! Are you okay?”

His knees buckled and he almost crashed to the floor again before Shiro caught him.

“Why don’t you trust me?” The words tumbled out a whisper under his breath. He was breathing hard again. The raging battle in his head just as intense as the one he’d waged in the flesh.

“Keith, I-”

“ _ Why? _ ” he barked, spittle flying, brows drawn together. He wrenched his arm out of Shiro’s grip and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and then his forehead. His eyes searched Shiro’s for just a glimmer of understanding, of hope. Yet he no longer trusted himself to believe.

Maybe that’s what it was; how could he expect anyone to trust him if he didn't even trust himself?

His heart cleaved in two.

He had lost. A fate less cruel would have started the inevitable collapse and collide of those two black holes. 


End file.
